


Soft Eyes and Happy Hearts

by ziusura



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, spoilers for halamshiral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4911697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziusura/pseuds/ziusura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varaad and Dorian dance at the Winter Palace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Eyes and Happy Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [adaar and cadash appreciation month](http://qunarianddwarves.tumblr.com/post/129108998119/the-adaar-and-cadash-appreciation-month) for adaar x dorian. Doesn't follow the exact dialogue for this scene. If you, for whatever reason, prefer reading things on tumblr it's posted [here](http://stoneanddragons.tumblr.com/post/130263624481/i-wont-subject-you-to-more-shitty-iphone-pictures).
> 
> I'm putting it up on ao3 so I can hide from the fact that I haven't updated any fics in a while aha. That'll change soon I hope—my anxiety's being itself and I'm in a weird headspace but since I wrote _something_ I should start getting back to a headspace better for me.

Morrigan took her leave and Varaad turned to stare at the paint on the rail in front of him—not even at the lovely courtyard where he’d laid Florianne to rest. Just the faint streaks of white against whatever wood behind it. He could hear a second set of footsteps outside the balcony even over the sounds of the celebration inside, and the ache between his shoulders made itself known; he’d enjoyed the courtly intrigue at first, but it was exhausting and Varaad never knew if he was supposed to stand proud at his full height and look down at everyone, or make himself smaller, more palatably “human height” to the court, so he’d gone back and forth. He wondered how he was supposed to greet this person, and was instantly tired; how Josephine did this more than an hour or two a day was something Varaad would never understand.   

“There was an ancient Dowager looking for you. Said she had twelve daughters! I told her you’d left already.” 

Varaad slumped forward onto his elbows and sighed softly in relief. Dorian. It was just Dorian, and in his typical fashion he’d announced himself before anyone could think otherwise. 

Dorian leaned against the railing next to Varaad, knocking their elbows together as a soft greeting, and continued, “You can thank me later. Or now. But you look lost in thought. Something on your mind?” 

Dorian left his arm against Varaad’s, nudging into Varaad’s bicep with his shoulder, and the heat from his body was welcome. It wasn’t cold out, but as Dorian had apparently noticed, Varaad had a lot of somethings on his mind, and it was comforting to have him there. 

“This just…wasn’t how things were supposed to be,” Varaad said, studying the paint a little harder. “It was fun in the beginning with the fancy outfits and the double speak. We saved Celene, but it. It happened and the talks went not the way I’d like. And I felt like no matter what I did they just didn’t like me.” 

The first thing he’d heard after Gaspard had left for the palace was a comment about him being a _savage Qunari_. It was all things he’d heard before, but he’d hoped it’d be the only one and his excitement at being _at court_  had overrun how it weighed on him. But court wasn’t like it was in the books—at least for him. It’d only stacked and stacked until he’d been carrying a druffalo on his back for hours.   


Dorian made a clicking sound with his tongue, then pressed his hand to the middle of Varaad’s back. It wasn’t where the tension was, but it was where Dorian touched often; Varaad felt like he’d have a Dorian hand-shaped mark across his spine there for the rest of his life. 

“Noble parties are disgusting, hmm? Too much crawling on the floor with their heads up their asses. I can’t say I enjoy it even when it’s my ass they are crawling up.” Dorian patted his back and slid his hand down until his fingertips brushed the edge of Varaad’s pants. Another permanent Dorian hand mark. “In any case they broke out the incredibly expensive alcohol in your name if you want to celebrate so much you forget the entire experience.”   


That would certainly make rereading his favorite series easier since he wouldn’t have actual human court intrigue to compare to it, but no. He was the inquisitor and he had to remember everything, make every choice informed; it was his duty. Varaad turned his head to look at Dorian, look the soft smile on his face under that well groomed mustache, and shook his head no. 

Dorian raised an eyebrow, but the look in his eyes said that he wasn’t really that shocked with Varaad’s answer. “Then how about another distraction? I believe you asked me for a dance earlier and I’d really like to capitalize.”   


Varaad turned away completely from the railing, and Dorian’s hand slid off his back. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said quietly, the seriousness of how much he _wanted_ that bleeding into the teasing tone he’d tried for. 

Dorian slid his hand into Varaad’s, warmer against his skin than it had been on his back, and pulled him away from the railing. “Thank goodness _one_ of us has a little initiative then,” he said, his gaze focused on Varaad’s through his eyelashes. 

They fell together then, though not nicely; Dorian was clearly not used to dancing with someone larger, and the two left feet Varaad thought Josephine had trained out of him had returned with a vengeance now that he was with the only person he’d wanted to impress. They were out of step and off rhythm from the song floating out through the balcony door, but Dorian’s chest was warm against his own and their hands felt right in their grip. And it was just what Varaad needed.

Varaad stepped on Dorian’s boot once more, and after the laugh and jaunty shuffle he had to do to catch up Dorian asked, “What happened to the man I saw dancing with Florianne?”   


Varaad tried to laugh but it caught in his throat, and it came out more like a snort and a wheeze. It only made Dorian smile wider, and Varaad felt heat rise in his cheeks. 

“You make me nervous,” Varaad admitted, and he knew his face had to be as red as his uniform by then.   


“Nervous?” Dorian said with a flourish that was entirely him, and he played it off with a laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the edges. 

He was so beautiful, so handsome, with his cheeks flushed from the dancing and the wine, a few hairs misplaced and cutely sticking up from all the fighting they’d done that evening, and the way his lips trembled with happiness every time Varaad mentioned how Dorian made him feel. This incredible man had chosen Varaad, and he still couldn’t believe it. 

Varaad’s hand slowly slid up from Dorian’s shoulder, hardly knowing where it was going until his thumb reached one ruddy cheek, Dorian’s mustache tickling the edge of his hand. It felt perfect there—right—and Dorian moved his own hand on top of it. Dorian’s breath ran down the inside of Varaad’s wrist, but his eyes were all Varaad could focus on; he was barely aware they’d stopped dancing.   


“I love you,” Varaad said, not really intending to say it out loud but meaning every syllable. 

Dorian’s breath hitched, and Varaad gripped his hand tighter. He was surprised, mouth open and eyes wide. Somehow he was always surprised when Varaad said it, and Varaad said it constantly. Dorian pressed his cheek impossibly closer to Varaad’s palm, almost like he was trying to hide and keep himself from hiding all at once, but his eyes didn’t stray from Varaad’s. 

Dorian’s lips twitched once, twice, before he cleared his throat and turned his eyes to Varaad’s chest. 

“Well, this is definitely different than Mother’s parties,” he said quietly, his lips curled into a small grin. He stroked the back of the hand on his face a few times with his thumb, then dragged his hand along Varaad’s arm with the confidence he’d been startled out of, and rested it firmly on Varaad’s pecs. 

“Your words…” Dorian said with a light huff of laughter, and then he was sliding his hand up behind Varaad’s head and pulling him down to his lips all within the next breath.   


Varaad went willingly, and unlike their dance their kiss was a practiced movement. Gentle but unyielding. Spontaneous but measured. And Dorian poured his heart into it because as good as he was at filling every moment with speech, he wasn’t so great at talking about his feelings, and Varaad understood. 

The finished their kiss with a few pecks, like they weren’t ready to pull back—Varaad knew he wasn’t—but they did, and Dorian pulled away with a satisfied smile on his face. Varaad knew he had that overly fond look on his face, could tell by the way his lips were slack and his stomach fluttered with happiness. 

“I’m sure I’ve had a dirty dream about this—me, dancing with my lover _the Inquisitor_ at the Winter Palace.”   


Dorian started to gently sway again, pulling Varaad along though they were only half in the correct position for dancing. 

“Just one?” Varaad asked, playing along even though he knew it was just Dorian trying to put distance between them being _embarrassing._  


“No, but this was close. Though there was not nearly enough sword fighting, believe it or not.”   


“I can’t; there was quite a bit of sword fighting.”   


Varaad let himself move back into dancing position and didn’t bother to hide the cheesy grin he knew was on his face. It went better this time, but only just—maybe he and Dorian were always meant to have awkward dances.

The sounds of a celebration only just hitting its stride drifted out onto their balcony, and Varaad pressed himself closer to Dorian; he knew he’d keep this moment in his heart forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to prompt/ask shit [on my tumblr](http://stoneanddragons.tumblr.com).


End file.
